A poem from my first book, Something That Comes Close. Illustration by Spike.

A poem from my first book, Something That Comes Close. Illustration by Spike.

In loving memory of our mother.

For Betty. 16 January 1931 to 4 February 2025

It can be odd the ways in which one's mind plays tricks on us. My mind certainly. Today is the 25th anniversary of my arrival in Australia.

Not long after you break your neck in three places (in a not-swimming-well-enough accident) people tend to ask a lot of questions.

They do say ... write as if your life depended on it.

Last days of primary school, I think. Maybe 1968 or 69. Look at those ears and the ginger hair!!! The past is indeed a foreign country.

In the immortal words of John Lennon ... love is all we need.

Betty and my younger brother Joe. Mothers Day, Kilmarnock Scotland. ♥️

"People learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart" Mandela

Anyone who wins the best dressed man at the Galway Races, -- without knowing that's 'a thing' -- undeniably has sprawl.

It is in days such as today I find myself. Quiet, simple days where not much happens on the surface. Time passes slowly. I am with people...

We visited Betty again today for three hours. By the time we said our goodbyes my mother was tired. It was time for us to go. Betty was...

Glasgow is the city in which I was born. When people ask, "where are you from?" I usually answer "Glasgow" although the fact is I left...

The promenade at Weymouth is a peaceful place at seven o'clock on a Sunday morning. The only sounds are those of the natural world. The...